Classic Poem

If you have a cherished secret,
Don't you tell:—
Not your friend—for his tympanum
Is a bell,
With its echoes, wide rebounding,
Multiplied and far resounding,—
Don't you tell.

If, yourself, you cannot keep it,
Then, who can?
Could you more expect of any other man?
Yet you put him, if he tells it,
If he gives away or sells it, under ban.

Sell your gems to any buyer
In the mart:
Of your wealth, to feed the hungry,
Spare a part.
Blessings on the open pocket!
But your secret—keep it, lock it
In your heart.